


S.o.S. [Sleepy on Sundays]

by crowaii



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Domestic, F/F, Fluff without Plot, Lazy Mornings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 03:12:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14946518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowaii/pseuds/crowaii
Summary: Fareeha propped herself up lazily, elbow sinking into the cool spot where her pillow once sat.“Satya?” This time, a pillow-muffled noise."It’s time to get up, dearest.”------------A lazy morning on base.





	S.o.S. [Sleepy on Sundays]

**Author's Note:**

> The lovely Chattezi had a very cute, very gay dream that I ended up writing out as this.

_“—the Australian prime minister made headlines this weekend after what many perceived as dismissive response to a press conference question about continued high radioactivity levels in large swaths of Tanzania—“_

Fareeha fumbled blindly for the snooze button, smacking the bookshelf that served as Satya’s nightstand several times before finding the alarm clock. She’d found it adorably retro the first time she’d seen it, fiddling delightedly with the (actual push!) buttons before Satya had smacked it playfully out of her hands. Now, scrabbling blearily at the same (actual push!) buttons, she wondered just how much Satya’d miss it if it had an unfortunate “accident.”

 

Given the way she was currently sprawled out unmoving, Fareeha was inclined to say _not much_.

 

_“—protestors in Rio de Janeiro clashed with police for the third day in a row over city plans for a private laboratory that will expand into one of the neighboring favelas—“_

Admitting defeat, she sat up with a groan to better see the clock. Across from her, Satya hummed sleepily, groping for the blanket in ever-expanding arcs before finding a fistful and jerking it over her own exposed legs.

 

_“—Oracle Technologies stocks fell today after a consumer watchdog announced serious concerns with the Delphi 9, set to hit stores next week—“_

Finally, Fareeha managed to slap the snooze button with more force than was strictly necessary, cutting the newsreader off mid-sentence. Victorious, she flopped back to the mattress only to notice that her pillow was nowhere to be seen. Satya shifted, and there over the arc of her shoulder Fareeha spotted the telltale puff of her missing pillow, pressed to the exposed softness of her stomach where her shirt had ridden up in the night.

 

“Dearest.” No response. Fareeha propped herself up lazily, elbow sinking into the cool spot where her pillow once sat.

 

“Satya?” This time, a pillow-muffled noise.

 

“It’s time to get up, dearest.”

 

Satya rolled on her half-exposed stomach, arm dangling off the side of the mattress, her hair a liquid curtain in the early morning light.

 

“ _Saaatyaaa_.”

 

Sitting up, Fareeha leaned over her, drawing out the vowels in her name lazily. There was no rush, really, but they liked taking breakfast together when they could, and she’d woken ready to eat half her weight in bagels.

 

“mmmffft,” Satya mumbled into the pillow.

 

“What?” Fareeha asked, wobbling slightly on the mattress as she leaned closer.

 

 _“_ _मेरी_ _बांह_ _,_ _कृपया._ _”_

 

“I don’t speak Hindi, dear.” Fareeha tried to keep the laughter out of her voice as she leaned down to press butterfly kisses to the faded scars on Satya’s left shoulder, letting her hair tickle the back of her neck. Satya shifted with a quiet murmur of annoyance, rolling slightly to lift her face from the pillow and pointing to the desk on the far wall.

 

“I said, ‘get my arm for me, please.’” Satya enunciated carefully, voice still thick with sleep. Following the line of her arm, Fareeha’s eyes landed on the white prosthetic resting next to a neat stack of papers.

 

“As my lady commands.”

 

With one last kiss to a dimple in her shoulder muscle, Fareeha swung out of bed, hopping gingerly across the cold floor to the retrieve the arm. Behind her, Satya sat up slowly, the stolen pillow dangling in her hand.

 

“You know,” Fareeha said, trading the prosthetic for the pillow, which she returned to its place at the head of the mattress, “you really need to buy more pillows if you’re going to keep stealing mine every night.”

 

“I thought in the military they train you to sleep on rocks,” Satya replied, flicking her hair impatiently to the side as she attached her prosthetic. The light panels winked an affirmative blue as she wiggled her fingers experimentally and tested the neural feedback. She should check with Dr. Ivanova soon about software updates she reminded herself absently as her aural implant chirped confirmation that her arm had been calibrated.

 

“Why do you think I left?” Fareeha teased from her right, digging through the dresser for a shirt.

 

“The charms of life in an underfunded vigilante outfit?” Satya shot back, smiling. As if on cue, the pipes creaked noisily in the wall as someone somewhere turned on their shower. Pausing to stare at each other for a moment, they both laughed.

 

Checking her phone, Fareeha pulled a face. “It’s Ziegler on mess this morning.”

 

Satya didn’t exactly grimace, but it was a near thing. “I think that café with the croissants is open?”

 

Fareeha grinned, waggling her keys.

 

“I’ll drive?”

**Author's Note:**

> Pharah steals blankets, Symm is the pillow ninja; you think you're safe until suddenly you're waking up to find she's stolen your pillow in the middle of the night.
> 
> Also I don't even remotely speak Hindi, so sorry @ world for the Google translate.


End file.
